


do you want to die together?

by VibrantVenus



Series: my favorite fics i've written [9]
Category: Corpse Bride (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/F, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, POV Female Character, Queer Character, Reader is Victor's younger sister, Suicide, do you want to die together by stars, title is from a song, victor is awkward in general but he is a good older brother and you cant tell me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VibrantVenus/pseuds/VibrantVenus
Summary: When Victor disappears from the church, you follow after him. You don't find your brother, but you do find yourself a bride.
Relationships: Emily (Corpse Bride)/Reader, Victor Van Dort/Victoria Everglot
Series: my favorite fics i've written [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183229
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	do you want to die together?

**Author's Note:**

> this is gonna get like 0 interaction and i'm okay with that bc i am my number 1 fan and i'm writing this for me anyways.  
> Most of the dialogue is taken from the source material.

The wedding rehearsal is a disaster. Victor is flustered, frustrated. Intimidated by the ugly looks Victoria’s parents were sending him, the desperate sadness in Victoria’s hunched shoulders. You’d been lucky to catch the ring when you did, even as chaos erupted around you.. 

Victor had run from the church, frantic and upset, and you had, stupidly enough followed him. You lost him in the forest, and when you turned to go back to the church you found you couldn’t recognize the stretch of woods you were in. You tried to remember which way you’d come from, hands twisting nervously. Yet your surroundings remained unfamiliar, foreign and dangerous. Your fist clenched around the ring as you walked. Hoping for a brief glimpse of civilization. 

Nothing. You were gradually becoming frustrated, your legs tiring as you walked. Finally, you allowed yourself to sit on a tree stump, a defeated sigh escaping your chest.

Your palm opened to reveal the ring, golden and glimmering in the weak sunlight filtering through the trees. 

“Surely,” you began, voice a whisper, “Surely it couldn’t be _that_ hard?”

You stand, dress swishing around your ankles. It wasn’t your wedding, but you’d still memorized the vows.

You didn’t think you’d ever marry. Something about you, about the hunger inside of you-

You stop, head falling down as you shoulders as you curl in on yourself. You run your fingers through your hair, loosening the braided crown you’d done that morning. You look on the ground, searching for…there! A smaller branch, shooting off enough to look somewhat like a hand. You kneel down, ignoring the snow clinging to the damp, dirtied ends of your dress. You grab the branch with one hand, cradling it as you would another’s. You rolled the ring between your fingers, and slowly quietly, began to speak.

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows,” you breathed in, a deep shuddering breath, as you imagined a hand in your own. 

“Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine.”

The forest around you was still as a grave, silent but for your panting breaths and quiet words.

“With this candle,” you began, picturing a bright flickering flame, dancing as you breathed, “I will light your way into darkness.”

“With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

With your final words, you slipped the ring on the corresponding finger.

The moment broke as the wind picked up, the caw of a raven somewhere above you startling you from where you’d been staring at the ring. The trees were full, birds on each branching staring down at you.

Something grabbed your arm, yanking it deep into the earth. You screamed, startling the birds. You pulled up, frantically avoiding the fluttering birds as you attempted to free yourself. You flew backwards into the ground, a loud crack signifying you’d broken off whatever was holding you. There, a hand, bones clutching your arm like a lifeline, Victor’s ring glimmering on it’s finger. You shook your arm with a cry, the bones falling off you, limp and lifeless.

The earth rumbles and splits, a pale blue arm latching onto the dirt.

The corpse-a woman, ascends from the dirt, long billowing veil hiding her face as the earth itself opened up for her. She lifts the veil and-she’s beautiful, you think. Mind clouded with fear and desperation at the sight before you. 

“I do.”

With that, she begins to step forward, arm outstretched for you as you stumble upwards, running away. You run, head turned enough to see the woman continuing towards you, both arms attached to her body now. You trip, rolling down a hill and cracking your head against a tombstone. You push your hair out of your face, pressing your back against the solid stone as the corpse draws closer. You scramble over the stone, running and running, branches tearing at your dress. 

You turn to look behind you, missing the tree in front of you and slamming into it. You’re dizzy, your vision blurry as you clutch the tree for balance. You look and the woman is there, ethereal, arm still reaching for you. 

You nearly begin to cry when you slip on the ice, sure that this is the end, arms wobbling as you attempt to regain your balance. She’s so much closer, has taken this moment to bridge the gap between the two of you. 

Finally you see a glimpse of your salvation, the bridge you’d walked across just hours before. The branches tear at your clothes, ripping a scrap of fabric off your shoulder, exposing a bit of skin to the cold winter air. You run, arms rising to protect your head as the birds swarm, squawking angrily above you.

Then, silence. You are alone on the bridge, the mysterious, veiled woman nowhere to be seen. You breathe a sigh of relief, arms clutched to your chest as you begin to walk towards the town. You turn, only to find yourself face to face with the woman. You scramble backwards, cornered as she steps closer, veil fluttering behind her as her hands fall upon your shoulders.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

She leans forward as the birds swarm closer, and the last thing you feel before falling unconscious is cool lips pressing against your own.

Your eyes open slowly, the woman peers down at you worriedly. You flinch, head smacking into the wood. You groan, eyes clenching shut as you clutch your head. There’s a steady ache thrumming in the base of your skull, though it’s slowly easing as you sit.  
You peek through your fingers, eyes latching on the...people? Around you. It was an odd group, skeletons, men and women in varying stages of decomposition, most familiarly, the woman who had chased you through the forest.

“Are you alright dear?” 

Her hand rose to your face, palm cradling your cheek. You feel like you should be afraid, but her touch is soft, comforting. You know nothing, and yet you’re confident that she won’t hurt you. 

“I-my head hurts...a little.”

She nods, and you try not to completely nuzzle into her hand. You’re so unused to touch, that even positive touches felt foreign.

You take a moment to really look at the woman before you, her skin is blue, the shade reminiscent of forget me nots. Her hair is long and curly, a darker blue then her skin. She’s wearing a wedding dress, the fabric torn to expose her ribs.

You hear, faintly, “A toast then, to the newlyweds!”

You jerk, “The newlyweds?” 

The woman smiles, a soft thing blooming across her lips. “Oh yes, in the woods...you said your vows so perfectly!” 

She twirls in her spot, showing off the ring on her finger. It would almost be sweet if it didn’t immediately set in what she meant. 

“I-oh dear...” 

You jerk away from everyone, backing up until you’re pressed against a wall. You cradle your arms to your chest, breathing frantically. You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes.

“Oh, I must be dreaming…”

You hiccuped, pushing (H/C) hair out of your face. The woman, your...wife? Looked concerned, hands wringing anxiously.

“Please I- I need answers. Where am I? Who are you? How...how are you okay with this?”

And thus begins a tale of love and murder, heartbreak and betrayal. It’s awful, and upsetting, and you don’t mean to get so flustered when the woman takes your hand in her own. When she dances and twirls with you.

Still, even with answers, it’s too much. You run.

You duck around corners, dress held in your hands as you run, avoiding your corpse bride. You just need space. Just a moment to breathe, to get a hold of your bearings. You ignore the shouts of your name, moving faster when the voice got closer.

You come to a dead end. Her voice is closer than before, and you climb, fingers gripping the stone. You don’t look down, fingers scrambling from cracks to lift you higher. You finally reach the rails, gripping them tightly in an effort to raise yourself. Your hands wags uselessly, searching for something to pull you over the edge. Your fingers brush...something, and you grip it with all your strength.

You look up, “Oh!”

“You could have used the stairs silly!” With that she grabs your arm, pulling you up and over the railing. She twirls, arms spread around her. “Isn’t the view beautiful? It takes my breath away,” she lets out a soft laugh, “Well it would if I had any.”

She sits down on the bench, patting the spot beside her with a smile. You sit with a huff, breath still a little shallow with anxiety. 

“Look...I’m terribly sorry about what happened to you, and I want to help you but...I need to go home now.”

She laughs, awkwardly, “This is your home now!”

You smile sadly, “I don’t even know your name.”

Her face goes blank, and she frowns, smacking her head lightly to quiet the worm in her skull.

“It’s Emily.”

You whisper the name to yourself. 

_Emily..._ it’s a pretty name.

Emily sits up straighter, “Oh! I almost forgot! I have something for you!” She passes over a box, whispering secretively, “It’s a wedding present!”

You take the box gently, rattling it lightly near your ear. 

You open the box and, “OH!” 

You pull out a bone, face falling, “Thank you?” The box begins rattling, falling off of your lap and onto the ground. The bones spread out, quickly coming together to form the skeleton of a small dog. It’s tail wags excitedly as it scoops up the collar, trotting dutifully forward to drop it into your hand. 

You read the name on the collar, and are immediately filled with joy. 

“Scraps,” you begin questioningly, a happy bark answers you, “Scraps!”

Scraps hops around, barking joyfully as you put his collar on. “It’s my dog Scraps!”

Emily laughs quietly beside you as you press the dog against your chest.

You instruct him to do a few tricks, smile widening with each one done successfully. Muttering a small sorry in response to the whine you get at ‘play dead.’

He jumps up, foot bouncing as you lightly scratch his tailbone.

“Mother...never approved of him jumping up like this. Then again...she never approved of anything.”

Emily’s voice is soft, “Do you think she would have approved of me?”

In your heart, you already know the answer. “Just be thankful you never met her.”

Suddenly a plan begins to form. You care nothing really for your parents, but your brother...you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“Well actually...now that you mention it, you should meet her, in fact, since we're, you know, married, you should definitely meet her.” You paused, “And my father and brother too. We should go and see them right now.”

Emily seemed ecstatic, “What a fantastic idea! Where are they buried?”

You frowned, realizing the fatal flaw in your plan.

“What? What is it?”

You shrug, “They're not from around here.”

And Emily, Emily seems confused. Head tilted to the side, “Where are they?”

You point towards the sky.

“Oh, they're still alive.”

You nod, sadly.

Emily stares off into the distance, hands twisted in her dress. “Well, that is a problem.” Scraps barks, beginning a short, confusing conversation with Emily, one you can’t make sense of.

“What?”

Emily smiles. “Elder Gutknecht.”

The two of you enter a room filled with books, the air feels stale and heavy. The two of you walk further into the room, startling a large black bird when you accidentally knock over some books.

A deep echoing voice comes from the front of the room, startling you from where you were picking up the fallen books. 

“Oh, my dear. There you are.”

Emily smiled, stepping closer to the pedestal. “l've brought my wife, (Y/N).

The skeleton stared down at the two of you, scratching his skull idly, “What's that? Wife?”

You held a hand to your mouth, speaking louder so your voice could be heard, “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“We need to go up,” Emily pointed at the roof with one hand, “Upstairs? To visit the land of the living.”

“Land of the living? Oh, my dear.”

Emily clasped her hands together, staring hopefully up at Elder Gutknecht, “Please, Elder Gutknecht.”

The old skeleton climbed down the stairs, bones clanking with each misstep, “Now, why go up there, when people are dying to get down here?”

This time it was your turn to beg, this stranger the only thing holding you back from seeing you brother.

“Sir, l beg you to help. lt means so much to me-” Emily smiled softly at your side, fingers tangling with your own, “-Us.”

Elder Gutknecht scratched his skull some more, raising the bone a bit as he grumbled, “l don't know, it's just not natural.”

Emily took his hand, “Please, Elder Gutknecht. Surely there must be something you can do.”

He patted her hand, “Let me see what l can do.” 

The skeleton walked off, searching through each bookshelf, tossing those that were unneeded. Finally he found the correct book, pulling it off the shelf and blowing away a thick layer of dust.

He flipped through the pages, finally pointing out something you couldn’t see, “l have it.”

Emily gave a soft gasp of delight.

“A Ukrainian haunting spell. Just the thing for these quick trips.”

Emily leaned closer, squeezing your hand lightly and whispering in your ear, “So glad you thought of this.”

You nodded shakily, whispering as well, “Me too.”

You watched as Elder Gutknecht prepared a potion, eyes widening at the bright red plume of smoke that erupted from the cup. The skeleton coughed lightly, and drank the liquid down, ignoring the way it fell through his skull onto the book beneath him.

“Now, then where were we?”

Emily’s voice was light and airy, hiding any of the judgement you felt coiling in your belly, “The Ukrainian haunting spell?”

Loud squawking filled the air as the older skeleton grasped the bird next to him, squeezing until a large egg came free. He tossed the egg lightly, catching it between his bony fingers.

“Here we have it. Ready?”

The two of you nodded.

“Just remember, when you want to come back, say ''Hopscotch.''”

Emily laughed, as if the word itself was the most absurd part of this situation, “Hopscotch?”

Elder Gutknecht cracked the egg, “That's it,” pale golden mist erupted from within the egg, covering the both of you and transporting you both back to the land of the living. 

You were back in the clearing. Pale moonlight that made Emily glow, softening the contours of her face. Her smile widened as she stared up at the moon, eyes full and bright,

“l spent so long in the darkness, l'd almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”

She takes your hand in hers, twirling and dancing with you. You feel warm and bright, like a star. It’s scary, this love, but you’ve never felt safer then in this moment. You slow to a stop, pulling Emily to stillness as well.

“I need to go find my brother, but I’m not entirely sure where he is. Would you be okay waiting here while I searched?” 

Emily smiled and nodded, tapping a finger to the side of her head, “I’ve got company, I’ll be fine.”

You grip your skirts in your hands and set off. It’s easier to find your way back this time, and you’re careful not to tear your dress any more than you already have. Soon enough you’re back at the bridge.

You pause, fingers rising to your lips, skin flushing bright red. 

Your first kiss…

You shake yourself, continuing onward. If you’re lucky, Victor will be at your home, if you’re unlucky, the Everglot residence. It’s late, the streets dark and dreary as you walk home. 

You’re dismayed at the sight of the darkened windows, and you fall to the ground with a huff, fingers carding through your tangled hair. You rub your forehead, thinking. You really don’t want to deal with Victoria’s parents, or, god forbid, your own. You’d be content to say your goodbyes to Victor and be on with it.

You stand up, slowly make your way down the street. Soon you stand before the Everglot house. It’s large and foreboding. You stare into each window, wondering which your brother is in. You walk around the side of the building, eyeing the balcony. You’re pretty sure that is Victoria’s room, you’re willing to risk it.

You liked Victoria well enough, she was quiet sure, but you could tell just from looking at her that she would make your brother happy. Happier than he’d ever been at home at least. Something about the way it sounds in your head makes you feel...bitter. 

You’d always known Victor would leave you. He was handsome enough, and kind. He’d taken care of you where your parents hadn’t bothered, brushing your hair, twisting it into braids, and buns. He’d buckled your shoes, and held your hand when you walked through the market. He’d loved you when no one else in your home would. 

So you could move on without your mother and father. You didn’t need them. But you couldn’t go without telling Victor. Couldn’t leave the mortal world without saying goodbye to the one person alive who cared for you.

You look up at the balcony with a sigh, and begin climbing.

You haul yourself over the stone with a thump, taking a moment to catch your breath. Your arms are sore, and you can feel each scrape on your body throbbing. You roll up until you're standing, knocking quietly on the glass to catch Victoria’s attention. She stands quickly, head jerking in shock when she sees you. She unlatches the door with trembling hands, pulling you inside quickly. 

“(Y/N)! You’re okay!” she pulls a blanket off her bed, wrapping it around your shoulders and settling you near the fire. 

“Where have you been? Your brother has been worried sick!”

You tremble slightly, only realizing how cold you were once confronted with warmth, “It doesn’t matter, is Victor here? Please I need to see him.”

She looks at you, concerned, before nodding resolutely. “I’ll get him.”

She leaves the room as you rub your hands together, flexing the icy digits. 

Soon your brother kneels before you, large hands encasing your own. You look at him, the tired lines of his face and-oh.

Tears stream down your face, hot and salty as you launch yourself into his arms, burying your wet face in his neck. His hands, warm and gentle cradle you closer to his chest, and you’re safe.

Your sobs, wretched and aching, fade away as he holds you, idly rubbing your back to comfort you. 

You speak quietly, shame coiling in the pit of your stomach as you speak of your marriage. Of your corpse bride waiting for you in the forest. He’s silent, hand never slowing as you speak of the last few hours. Of the music and the light, and sweet Scraps, still as excitable in death as he’d been when you were younger. You tell him that you can’t stay, that you love him, and you’ll miss him, and you’re sorry for giving his ring away. 

He laughs softly, fingers carding through your hair.

“Does she make you happy?”

You look up at him, sniffling. 

“Yes.”

He smiles, lips pressing against your forehead.

“Then it’s fine.” 

He pulls you closer, and you savor this moment, knowing it will be the last time you see your brother for a very long time. 

The balcony door opens, letting in a rush of cold winter air. You look up, and there Emily stands, tugging her vail out of her face.

“Sorry darling, I just wanted to meet-oh! You must be Victor!”

Emily steps forward, hand held out to him.

“I’m Emily!”

Victor is phased for only a moment, quickly rising to shake Emily’s hand.

Introductions are made. Even quiet Victoria introduces herself, hand only slightly shaking when she touches Emily. You stealthily wipe your tears away, rising to stand next to Emily.

For the first time, you grab her hand first.

The two of you don’t spend much longer speaking with Victor and Victoria, quietly muttering the word, the two of you reappear in Elder Gutknecht’s library.

You're sad, devastated even, but it feels good.

A soft hand touches your face, “Are you okay?”

Emily must have seen the redness around your eyes, understood what it meant.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” 

You lifted your hand to press it over hers, cradling the limb close. 

She laughed, spinning in place, narrowly missing a precariously stacked pile of books. 

“Oh! Come with me, I have something I want to show you!”

She leads you out of the library, down narrow alleys and hallways until you come to a room with a piano. Your eyes light up as you step closer, running your fingers gently across the keys. 

“Victor was teaching me to play,” you press a few keys, delighting in the bright sound they produce, “We hadn’t gotten very far yet…”

Emily smiles, taking your hand in her own, “Alright! I’ll teach you then!” 

She sits down on the bench, adjusting her dress where it bunched beneath her legs. You sit next to her, hands held loosely in your lap.

And that’s how it goes for the hour, Emily moving your hands into the correct positions, telling you which keys to press, laughing gleefully when you get a sequence correct. Voice gentle and reassuring when you get them wrong. You’re still hesitant, fingers clumsy in your nervousness, but soon you can keep up with her when she plays. Her hand snaps off her wrist, joyfully dancing across the keys and onto your shoulder.

You grab the limb with a laugh, gently reattaching it to Emily’s wrist. She smiles softly, mouth covered by her hand.

You want to kiss her, are just psyching yourself up to do it when a loud siren goes off.

Your head jerks to the doorway, a bright light flashes as you and Emily stand. You walk forward, entering the bar cautiously. You hear shouts about a new arrival, and you find yourself sad, even if for only a moment. You’re about to turn and leave when you see the figure, and oddly familiar shape you think.

“Mayhew?” 

You step closer, a smile spreading across your face, “Mayhew! How nice to see-” He turns, and you pause. His skin is bright blue with death, and it sets in what it means. For Mayhew to be here, staring into your eyes.

“...l'm so sorry.”

He laughs, “Oh, yeah. Actually, though, l feel great.”

You smile sadly, thinking of that awful cough, how greatly your mother had hated it. How likely it was that it killed him.

“How is everyone?”

He takes a hearty chug of his drink, “Well, they're still wondering where you slipped off to.”

You nod, “And what about my brother?”

He shifts in his seat, “Well, he's getting married this evening.”

You pause, you hadn’t realized so much time had already passed. 

“Oh.”

You curl in on yourself, hands wrapping around yourself. You’ll miss your brother's wedding. You begin to leave the room, needing air, space, God even just a moment to _think._

You pass Emily on your way out, her face shifting from happiness to concern when she sees you.

“(Y/N)? Where are you going?”

You find an empty corner to settle in, crouching to sit in the bottom of a coffin. You don’t know why you’re upset, you _knew_ you would miss the wedding. You’d said your goodbyes, had let him know you were safe. That should have been the end of it, and yet…

You hear voices coming from the door you’re sitting next to. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, you’re just...tired, and curious. Especially when you hear your name. You peer through a crack in the doorway.

“My dear, we have to talk.”

Elder Gutknecht holds a large book in his gnarled bony fingers. It’s the same book from earlier. You strain your ears as a smaller voice speaks up.

“Let me tell her, please. Let me tell her.”

“What?”

Emily’s voice is concerned, and you feel the same when you hear the older skeleton’s sigh.

“There is a complication with your marriage.”

Your eyebrows raise, shocked.

“l don't understand.”

Elder Gutknecht speaks slowly, his beard swinging with the motion, “The vows are binding only until death do you part.”

You see Emily stiffen through the small crack of light, “What are you saying?”

“Death has already parted you.”

You jerk backwards, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you listen.

“lf she finds out, she'll leave. There must be something you can do.”

Elder Gutknecht opens his book, shifting through the pages slowly, “Well, there is one way.”

You press a hand over your mouth, leaning closer to the door.

“Oh, please, please, let me tell her.”

You grimace, concerned with how gleeful the small worm seems.

“lt requires the greatest sacrifice.”

_The greatest sacrifice? What could that be?_

You miss the next few words, too caught up in your own head.

“We have to kill her!”

You bite your lip to stifle the gasp that nearly escapes you, blood welling up from the split skin. Emily seems just as shocked.

“What?”

A single bony finger tapped at the page in his book, “(Y/N) would have to give up the life she had forever. She would need to repeat her vows in the land of the living and drink from the wine of ages.”

And though you don’t know what exactly he’s saying, Emily seems to understand. 

“Poison!”

He places his hand over the page, bones rattling with the abrupt movement.

“This would stop her heart forever. Only then would she be free to give it to you.”

There’s a moment of silence where Emily sits, shoulders shaking. She slumps to the ground, holding her head in her hands, voice watery and choked.

“l could never ask her..”

You take the moment to step into the room, mind made up, “You don't have to. l'll do it.”

Elder Gutknecht lets out a deep, rattling cough before speaking, “My girl, if you choose this path you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?”

You place your hand in Emily’s, holding it tightly.

“l do.”

You and Emily stand on a high pedestal, and you cup your free hand around your mouth, “Gather round. Gather round, everybody. We've decided to do this thing properly. So grab what you can and follow us. We're moving this wedding party upstairs.”

The people around you voice their approval, running off in different directions to prepare. Emily herself is swept away after you help her down.

You take a moment to catch your breath, before you head in the direction Emily was taken. You’re stopped by the spider landing on your shoulder.

“Hold on, (Y/N)! You can't get married looking like that.” 

The little spider and her companions gather to sew up the tears in your dress. Nothing can be done for the scrapes and bruises hiding beneath your clothes, but soon your dress is pristine, almost good as new.

You’re finally allowed to move, and just in time to, as you get to see Emily come down the stairs. She’s still wearing the same dress, her veil still floating delicately around her shoulders. But she seems different, brighter, as if a great deal of stress has fallen off her shoulders. 

She smiles down at you, soft and smooth as honey and you-

_Oh._

Your group emerges from the shadows, and you almost feel sorry for invading Victor’s wedding reception, but it seemed awfully dull anyways. No one misses Victor and Victoria in the ensuing mayhem.

You laugh joyfully at the ruckus, even as others reconnect with their loved ones. You damn near laugh in Pastor Galswells’ face as he yells about demons.

Elder Gutknecht settles at the altar, clearing his throat as the room fills.

“Evening. Dearly beloved and departed we are gathered here today to join this woman and this corpse in marriage.”

You look out into a sea of smiling faces, dead and living alike.

“(Y/N)? Living first.”

You raise your hand, speaking slowly and clearly, “With this hand l will lift your sorrows.”

You pause, grabbing the goblet.

“Your cup will never empty for l will be your wine.”

Elder Gutknecht turns to Emily, “Now you.”

Emily smiles, taking a moment before speaking,

“With this hand l will lift your sorrows.”

She grabs the wine of ages pouring it into the goblet/

“Your cup will never empty. For l will be your wine.”

You take a deep breath, before drinking the entirety of the cup. It tastes sweet, and you think you must have the wrong wine until it hits you. 

It hurts, a great burning pain in your chest leaving you choking, gasping for air. You feel your heart stop, as quickly as a snap of your fingers. Living one moment, dead the next. 

You and Emily say the rest of your vows, and sliding the ring on her finger-it feels like coming home.

The doors opened with a loud noise, in walking Lord Barkis. You’d forgotten about the man, strange and discomforting as he was, with all the excitement of the last few days. To see him again, here, left a heavy feeling in your stomach. 

“Oh, how touching. l always cry at weddings.” 

He wiped away a fake tear, strolling down the aisle, his steps echoing. 

“Our young lovers together at last. Surely now they can live happily ever after.”

His voice was cold and disdainful, sending fear, sharp and bitter down your spine,

“But I came here for one thing, and I’ll not be leaving empty-handed!

His voice was near shouting by the end, as he grabbed your arm, yanking you into him. You were confused, it seemed useless by this point. Anything you could have given him, wealth, heirs, your hand in marriage, it was all gone. 

You looked up, and there sat Emily’s face, pale and terrified, eyes wide as she stared at Lord Barkis.

“You.”

A moment of silence, then recognition

“...Emily?”

Then, anger, “You!”

Lord Barkis suddenly seemed afraid, as if finally understanding the situation he was in.

“But- But- l left you.”

A pause, regret and shame.

“For dead”.

The room filled with gasps, and you suddenly felt a lot grimier where his hands gripped you. His voice was loud in your ear, “This woman is obviously delusional!”

He backed up as your guests began to stand, wrenching a sword out of a smaller skeleton's chest, holding it against your throat.

“Sorry to cut things short, but we must be on our way.”

You still didn't really understand the logic, didn't understand what Lord Barkis hoped to gain from this situation.

Your brother speaks, foolish and courageous, and so terrifyingly alive, “Take your hands off her.”

The sword is lifted from your throat, pointed at the very center of Victor’s chest. Lord Barkis’ voice is smug and confident, “Do l have to kill you too?”

Then, a blessing, Scraps, your sweet boy biting his ankle, teeth digging in tight as you take the moment to free yourself.

Mrs. Plum tosses a fork to Victor, and you watch, horrified, as your brother fights. He’s never been the fighting type, always so kind and courteous, and you pray to god Victoria isn’t about to be widowed. Thinking quickly, you run for the other corpse, ripping the knife from his back, and passing it to Victoria. You cannot help any more than this, can only watch as your Victor desperately defends himself.

The fork flies from Victors hand, and you think, terrified, ‘This is it.’ 

He’s on the ground, sword pointed at his face, as the world slows to a stop. You don’t notice both of the women at your side rush forward, only the shining arc of the sword as it comes down, burying itself...in Emily’s chest.

There’s a pained shout, and there Victoria stands, still holding onto the handle of the knife embedded in Lord Barkis’ chest.

Emily looks enraged. 

Emily looks avenged.

The pool of blood beneath Lord Barkis spreads, staining the crisp white fabric of Victoria’s wedding dress. He dies gurgling on his own blood, skin turning a pale blue as the corpses around him drag him off, his screams echoing in the large, empty church.

You move slowly, still staring at the blood as you make your way to Emily. She’s unsheathed the sword, and you ignore the way it dangles from her hand as you hold her, pressing her face into your shoulder. You don’t say anything when her arms wrap around you, when her shoulders shake, when two more sets of arms wrap around the two of you.

You have no room for words, as your fingers run through Emily’s hair, as the tears soak your shoulder. 

This is a pain you cannot take from her, something you can only help her carry. 

She sniffles, looking up at you with large wet eyes.

“You kept your promise.”

You smile, finally kissing her again, lips pressing against her own.

You have the rest of eternity to help her. To keep your promises.

A pale blue butterfly flies in through the window, landing on Emily's shoulder. It flutters it's wings delicately.

It feels like hope.


End file.
